Spammers Unite Episode 1: The Story Begins
by GreatOverseer
Summary: In this first episode of what is soon to be a long-lasting series, Sylia is a recent college graduate who meets a new employer, and with him a whole new adventure beyond the stars.
1. Chapter 1

_As the worlds of the universe come to terms with survival, civilization, and religious wars, they start to become frivolous. They randomly start playing around with hard rubber balls, or feathery plastic balls, or soft, squishy mucus balls in the case of some planets._

_And so is sport created._

_One of the chief sports on the planet Venezia, for example, is Advanced Dodgeball. Advanced Dodgeball can be compared to the Earth game Football, for the reasons A) that both use a ball which travels through the air incredibly fast, B) that a lot of people get either minor or critical injuries and sometimes even lose their lives during play, and C) it's definitely more popular than anything much else, except for maybe living. Venezia's Advanced Dodgeball arena is a spectacle to be sure. Set about a hundred miles in the air, inside Venezia's thermosphere, spectators can watch through glass pods as the dodgeball players smash the hell out of each other with varying ballistic objects._

_Advanced Dodgeball also draws crowds to Venezia, which can, at their greatest point, escalate into the octillion range. This puts a lot of pressure on Venezia's spaceports. Crowds jostle whenever the games end or begin. They don't care; they just want to get to the front and get either in or out._

_In the crowd leaving the most recent of these Advanced Dodgeball games we find Sylia. She's a nervous girl, who just got a few degrees in mathematics, coding, and classic literature, and is now looking for a job. She has already tried the Iron Cafe (the jobs there require a level of mathematics above any so far known to outside civilizations), but was turned down. Desperate, she now looks inside the terminal for at least the post of assistant flight director._

_She doesn't know who else is there, and that said individual is looking for another crewmember in one of the most risky jobs in the entire infinite reach of creation._

Sylia tried to fight her way through the crowd, but kept being pushed back. The masses swirled and churned, the floor vibrated like there was an earthquake of at least magnitude one-billion going on. Sylia ran for it. Hell, she thought. If she couldn't get through the crowds while being polite, she'd have to go sideways, because polite was the only way she'd been brought up as.

She managed to escape the maelstrom, and better than that managed to escape it at the entrance of a small cafe serving coffee and scones. At the tables there weren't many people. There was a swarthy looking guy with the clothes of a mercenary and a massive plasma rifle slung to his back; as well as that there was a scientist-looking guy with vivid bloodred skin and a knit cap slung over his head. There was a final customer, sitting at the table between the others.

He was dressed in a flashy black suit, with blue electric relays set in the joints and the chest and ab area. The man wasn't armed. He seemed to radiate an air of cool command. This was further evidenced by the fact that on his head was a sort of crown. It wasn't a conventional crown. The thing was a metal-plated cap, painted blue and red on opposite sides, with gold lightning bolts sticking up out of it.

The weirdest thing was that he was staring right at Sylia.

Sylia tried to look away, but found herself being held by the gaze. The man didn't move at all when Sylia sat down at a table far away from him, but his eyes followed her.

She tried to compose herself. This guy was really freaking her out.

The man suddenly moved. He shifted an inch in his seat.

Reassured by the friendly movement, Sylia cautiously walked over and sat opposite from him. The man stared and stared and stared. Sylia, feeling that she had to get involved too, stared back, not blinking. They stared for a while. Finally the man gave a small laugh and closed his eyes for a second.

"You beat me," he said.

"So I did," Sylia replied. "Why were you staring at me?"

"To challenge you to a staring contest, that's why." The man rummaged around in his pockets for a few moments, then fished out a piece of paper. He flattened it on the tabletop and faced it Sylia's direction. "I also want to interest you in something," the man continued.

The paper said, on the top, in bold letters, "CONTRACT FOR JOB". It was neatly typed, with no errors at all. Sylia asked the man what the job was.

"I just want you to join it," the man replied, "because I can sense you're intelligent. We need an intelligent member. And I can also see," he went on, "that you are in desperate need of a job at the moment."

Sylia didn't ask why; personally, she was glad that she even got an offer at all.

"I'll do it," she said. "What are the requirements?"

"Read." The paper was pushed lightly towards her. Sylia did as she was told.

The contract read like this:

"I, INSERT NAME HERE, do solemnly swear, upon my word and honor, to uphold the centuries-old traditions of this job, and to carry out my duties with pride. I swear hereby, as well, to respect the organizer but keep a firm grasp of myself and my needs. As this job is strictly confidential, I, INSERT NAME HERE, shall not confide in any law enforcement officials what my job actually is, and if I have to, shall do it as if it is someone else, not using the word 'I' while telling your profession. I do swear upon this, and will be a profitable member of the company/organization/unit. Amen."

There followed a line for which to sign a signature on.

Sylia read the whole thing again.

And again.

And again.

She thought long and hard about what signing the contract might do to her life.

She dismissed what she was thinking about and signed the contract anyways, then handed it back to the man, who took it and showed it to the two men opposite him.

The two men seemed to give their agreement to the thing which Sylia had agreed to, and finally with a nod stood up. Their leader, for leader he was, walked up to the now deserted terminal. He beckoned to Sylia.

"My name is Overseer 2," he said, "and you have nothing to fear from me."


	2. Chapter 2

Overseer 2's ship stood on one of the large platforms where the visitors parked their ships. It was a large, bulbous affair. What looked like a large gatlin gun protruded from the back end. The whole thing looked like a misshapen and backwards duck in flight.

"This is the Serpent," Overseer 2 explained.

It was the absolute farthest thing from a serpent Sylia had ever seen, and she giggled. Overseer 2 did not laugh; he merely kept up his pace, and Sylia had to run to cover the lost ground.

The inside of the ship was less akward; it was just a generic spaceship cockpit, with room enough for about five people to sit.

"Trust me, you'll be far more impressed when we reach Station Zephyr," the bloodred scientist confided in her as she strapped into the ship's body-hugging seat. There were three more, two on the left side of Sylia's, and one at the controls. By the look of the operating system, Sylia guessed, correctly, that the ship had been build at least ten thousand years before her own time.

Overseer 2 started to pilot the ship. He was good. There was almost a slight tremor from below where the engines were placed as he skillfully maneuvered off of the pad. Then a blur of heat and rushing air slammed into Sylia as the ship shot at ten times the speed of sound out of the atmosphere and into the cold blackness of space.

Space, in the Robloxian universe, does have gravity. Overseer 2's ship, the Serpent, utilized this gravity by letting its landing blocks drop down endlessly into the void.

Once the pressure had relaxed a little, everyone relaxed as well.

"We can get up now," Overseer 2 said, "although the only reason you should is to get the copyblock generator ready, y'hear?"

"Come on," the scientist said. "I'll show you the copyblock generator. My name's Haiakii, by the way."

The generator was what the gatlin gun-like thing at the back looked like from the inside. This was probably why the ship itself only had room for five people or so. The rest of the space was taken up by this monstrosity.

"Now, here's how we open the space doors," Haiakii explained to Sylia. The big man with the gun from earlier in the cafe pulled a red-capped lever, and a silent door opened in the side of the ship. A walkway was visible leading to the outside protrusion of the copyblock generator.

"We're going to load a block into the copyblock cartridge." Haiakii took out a remote and pressed a button. A large block appeared inside the cartrige. It flashed alternatingly from red to black to white to blue.

"The copyblock's deadly," said the mercenary. "Do not touch it on risk of being burned away into unreality. I'm serious," he added.

"Huh, sounds bad," Sylia replied.

"Now we gotta prime the gun," the mercenary said. "We do it, see, by cranking a wheel. That puts it on different settings. We're puttin' it on flyby, but right now it's on interstellar."

Sylia was shown outside onto the railed platform, and into the darkness of space. This space was unusual because it was not clear, but hung with a light blue mist. A nebula in this universe was an eerily haunting sight from the inside.

The mist brushed Sylia's hair as she climbed an inspection ladder to the protrusion where the wheel sat. The wheel had an arrow on one side, and as of now it was indeed pointing to "INTERSTELLAR". There were four other settings: INTERGALACTIC, INTERPLANETARY, FLYBY, and SHORT RANGE ASSAULT. Sylia cranked the wheel to flyby. The hum that had been coming from the gun softened.

That meant that the power had been dulled down to meet the standards of something called a flyby. What that was Sylia was about to find out, for Overseer 2 said, from the cockpit, "Okay, we are closing on target."

Ahead of them sat a planet, ringed with chunks of rock, and awesome in color and size.

Everyone went inside. The planet spun in their viewscreens and out the front window. A red light flashed on and off. Overseer 2 pulled a joystick, and the gun whirred from the back to the front and began to copy and fire the block in the cartridge. The blocks screamed towards the planet, and where they hit there was a burst of schrapnel.

As soon as the fourth block hit, they all knew something was wrong. Out of the atmosphere crept a number of large battleships. The battleships were unclear at a distance, but they looked to be horribly beweaponed. And heading right towards them.

"Take evasive action!," Haiakii shouted. Overseer shook his head.

"Nope," he said, "we are going in and we are going to go out again!" The ship put on a sudden and violent kick of speed. Now the ships were visible, and terribly so. They did indeed have guns, thousands of them for each ship, but they also had sharp prongs crackling with electricity at the front.

Sylia pressed against her seat, and prayed that they wouldn't die.

The battleships started firing.


	3. Chapter 3

And the ships would have kept firing if not for a total coincidence. A flying block spun out from about a light-blox away and smashed the entire battlefleet.

The speaker system on Overseer 2's dashboard sputtered to life.

"Sorry sir," a voice said, "I misfired again." Overseer 2 grinned inanely.

"Drago," he replied," why is it always you that gets us out of trouble?"

"I guess it's because I'm not ordered to do so." The comlink sputtered off again. Overseer 2 turned to the others. Sylia was pressed back against her seat, breathing hard.

"Okay, we're going to dock at Drago's ship, the Scorpion," Overseer 2 said. "Sylia, you haven't met Drago yet. He's nice enough, once you get past the fact that he can't aim for beans."

There was a larger ship ahead, with one hangar bay for a ship the size of Serpent. Overseer 2 maneuvered the Serpent into said hangar bay, and there was a slight hum as a forcefield sprang up to cover the hole. It glowed blue and green.

As they all disembarked, a landing party came to meet them. At its head was a man in a baseball cap and a suit of body armor. He had an amiable grin on his face, and the grin looked like, at any second, it would leap off his face and strangle someone.

Overseer 2 held out a hand.

"Nice to see you again," he said, shaking Drago's. Drago beamed.

"And you in turn," he replied. "Who's the girl?"

"She's the new recruit."

Drago nodded. "Ah." He stuck out his hand. Sylia reluctantly took it. They shook hands. "Good to meet you," Drago said, looking directly at Sylia. "I'm Drago; this is the good ship Scorpion. She's my pride and joy, as well as my chief annoyance." He laughed. "Reactor coils keep breaking!"

The cabin of the Scorpion, once they had entered, was large and airy. It was painted white, and the walls were curved so they were standing inside a hollow cylinder. Ranged at different control panels fitted to the curved profile of the walls were a number of fluffy-looking armchairs. They looked incredibly out of place on the bridge of a ship.

"This ship," Drago explained to Sylia in a hushed whisper, "has epic-drive engines! Can you believe that?" He sat at the control chair and hummed for a bit whilst everyone settled in.

The dimension of time and the dimension of space held sway throughout the universe.

The Scorpion's epic-drive engines told them both to get lost and promptly propelled the ship forward at amazing speeds across several star systems.

Ahead...

Ahead, the nebula sat.

It was called Charm Nebula, and was one of the most totally evil places in the whole of creation...

**END OF EPISODE 1**

**(Sorry if this is a bit of a short one; I ran out of ideas halfway through. Writers block, curse you!)**


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